


Forest of Nightmares

by Daerwyn



Series: A Collection of Drabbles by Helmaninquiel [30]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5112935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine comforting a crying Legolas after a very difficult battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forest of Nightmares

Legolas had returned with a hard expression on his face. The one someone puts on when they have seen too much. Seen someone suffer in their final moments, and could do nothing. So you watched as he strode swiftly from his horse, past you and past everyone, with a determined purpose in his steps.

He did not even do so much as greet you. But you followed him, silent yourself, waiting for him to say something. You would not break the trance he was in. He was heading for the shared chambers you lived with him in. And as the door shut behind you, the hard expression faltered.

“Meleth?” you asked quietly.

He gripped the rail of the footboard tightly, and was bowed over it, still in his dented and bloody armor. Legolas’s shoulders seemed to shake. Carefully, you stepped forward until you were beside him, and ever so gently began to unbuckle his armor, taking it off of his body wordlessly as he cried. And once he no longer wore the silver material of the elven royal house, you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.

He did not speak save for his choked sobs, and you did not either. He would speak when he was ready, and not before.

“He died in my arms,” Legolas ground out. He turned so that he could hug you in return, burying his wet face in your neck. “Spoke his last words as blood drowned him. As the poison consumed him.”

“Shhh,” you murmured, and you smoothed a hand over his hair. “It’s alright. He is in a better place, where there is no pain or final moments.”

“I could not save him. I am so sorry-”

“It does not matter,” you promised quietly, not even knowing to whom he was referring. “You were with them, and you held them. That is what matters. That they had a friend, that they had their prince, in the end.” He choked on a sob in your neck, and his next words made you feel cold all over.

“I am sorry I could not protect your brother.” Your brother. You felt tears prickle at your own eyes, but said nothing more than it was alright. Legolas had been with him, had comforted him. And that was what he would have wanted you to think of. Not to think of him in sadness. And to pull Legolas out of it.

“Let us get to bed, meleth nin. Some sleep will do us good.” He merely nodded and you did not care that he had dirt and blood in his hair. Sheets could be cleaned, as could he. But memories were what tortured us until they could be overcome. Once in bed, under the covers, one arm went around his waist, pressing his back into your front, and your other hand smoothed down his hair until eventually he fell into a restless sleep.

You kissed at his shoulder. “You fought well, Legolas, in that forest. Celebrate it.” And though you knew he did not hear you, his body relaxed slightly as if relieved of a burden. And the forest of nightmares left him for a little while, so that he could heal.

 

 

 

 


End file.
